


Alcohol Content

by MathConcepts



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Carlisle and Thranduil would get along, Carlisle and wine is a better love story than Twilight, Carlisle is a lightweight, Charlie is so done, Drunk Carlisle, Enjoy my wine headcanon, Exposition dump in the first sentence, F/M, How has Charlie not figured things out?, I wrote this entire bitch for two lines of dialouge, Multi, Other, Romeo and Juliet refrences in here, Vampires get drunk in my work, What's a Bella?, What's an Edward, oh hey, so squint, there's my next story, wine porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-10
Updated: 2019-01-10
Packaged: 2019-09-29 03:12:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17195429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MathConcepts/pseuds/MathConcepts
Summary: Carlisle indulges in some wine for New Years, with hilarious results.





	Alcohol Content

It was New Years eve, and to celebrate, Carlisle had purchased wine. Wine you ask? Due to some research, conducted mostly in bars and pubs, Carlisle had discovered the only human drink that could be ingested and tasted by his kind was wine, given that fact that it absorbed into the bloodstream, and produced little to no waste that would require purging. 

 

Carlisle had meant to save the wine as a surprise for the small New Years party his family was planning, but _meaning to_ did not equate with _not doing,_ and evening time found Carlisle holed up in his study, crystal wine glass in hand.

 

  
Carlisle swirled his wineglass, watching as the liquid within transformed into a shimmering red whirlpool. The wine was a 1914 _Cheval Blanc,_ wildly expensive, and extremely rare.

It tasted divine, though Carlisle hardly noticed the taste, focused only on the heat that pricked his throat as the sips of wine ran down it. It was somewhat like drinking blood, Carlisle mused, the wine's heat and aroma mildly mirrored the taste of fresh blood.  _Human blood._  
  
  
  
Sighing, the doctor set his glass down on the desk in front of him, and lifted another bottle from the crate that was concealed in the kickspace of his desk, pulling the cork from the bottle's neck with ease, and tipping a generous amount of wine into his glass.

He set aside the bottle, and brought the glass to his lips, sniffing delicately at the wine before taking a birdlike sip. Leaning back in his chair, Carlisle held the wine in his mouth, rolling it with his tonuge, his mouth opening slightly to let air bubble over the wine, then swallowed it, considering the aftertaste it left, a tingling, sweet, and crafty flavour.

 

Now having tasted it properly, Carlisle indulged in numerous sips, his lithe fingers clasping the wineglass, lowering and raising it in precise, even motions. 

The clip of heels echoed down the hall suddenly, and Carlisle gulped down the wine at the bottom of his glass, and shoved the glass between his legs, concealing it from view, and grabbed the wine bottle, whisking it off the table, and dropping it into the crate in the kickspace, just as Esme's head poked around the doorway of his study. 

"Hello, love." Carlisle greeted, his smile a bit too wide.

Esme's nose twitched, detecting the scent of the wine.   
  
  
"Carlisle, what are you doing?"

"...Ah, oh...nothing, love." Carlisle's tonuge darted out, capturing a stray droplet of wine, and Esme's eyes tracked its movement, narrowing ever so slightly in suspicion.

 

"Rosalie was expecting a package today, but she's _occupied_ with Emmett, and I think she's forgotten it. Would you go pick it up for her? It's almost evening, and the post office closes soon." Esme said, her amber eyes still focused on her husband.  

"Of course, love." Carlisle agreed smoothly.

Esme smiled, then shrugged, turning on her heel and leaving the way she had come. Carlisle listened to her steps fade, then retrieved the wine bottle, pouring its remaining contents into the glass clamped between his legs.  
  
  
The wine glass was emptied quickly, and Carlisle stood up, putting the empty bottle and glass back into the crate and zipping to the door, leaving his study and the house, and getting into his car, a stunning silver Porsche, and zooming off.

* * *

 

 

There was no one at the Forks post office, and Carlisle retrieved Rosalie's package quickly. It was fairly heavy, but Carlisle carried it back to his car with ease, and opened the trunk. 

In the trunk, was a crate of wine, the second batch of 1914 _Cheval Blanc_ that Carlisle had bought, but had left in his car, knowing he couldn't hide two crates in his study, not from Esme.

   
Carefully, Carlisle wedged Rosalie's package in by the crate, and got back into his car, driving off in the direction of the forest. He wasn't particularly hungry, but it was still a good idea to feed while he was already out and about.  
  
Parking his car when he reached the forest, Carlisle stepped out of the Porshe, taking in the view of the peaceful green trees. Though he didn't need to in the slightest, Carlisle breathed in luxuriously, inhaling the crisp, pine scented air.  
  
It was a fine day for hunting, the doctor thought. Carlisle stepped forward, about to take off running into the woods, then stopped short, looking down the front of his chest.

He was wearing a fitted, pale blue shirt made from Chinese silk, a shirt that so happened to be one of his favorites. He couldn't risk the off chance of ruining it on the hunt.

Unbuttoning it, he slipped out of it and left it in the car, then darted off into the trees, .

 

* * *

 

 

 He returned to the car a few hours later, the sun having set already, covering everything in a soft twilight. A group of campers had scared off the deer he had initially been hunting, forcing him to go the long route to find another, and then having to hide the deer's carcass after feeding from it, to prevent the campers from finding it. But it had still been a satisfying meal.

Carlisle unlocked the car, and was about to get in, one leg already inside, when he stopped, withdrawing his leg. What better way to wash down a good meal than with and excellent wine?

Still shirtless, Carlisle circled to the back of the car and opened the trunk, taking a bottle of wine from the crate. He didn't have wine glass on hand, but it was night, and he was alone. No need to stand on ceremony.  

Pulling the cork out, Carlisle lifted the bottle to his lips, sighing in pleasure as the wine trickled down his throat. The wine, cool and sweet, blended with the hot blood still in his belly, a wonderful mixture Carlisle thought, almost like rare steak and cherries, things Carlisle would never taste again. This thought made him tip the bottle higher, letting the rest of the wine slide down his throat.

 

Placing the empty bottle down in the crate next to its full brothers, Carlisle was about to shut the trunk, then stopped, he wanted another sip of wine, it couldn't hurt, and after all, he did pay nearly a _quarter of a million dollars_ for the wine in question.

Pulling a second bottle from the crate, Carlisle repeated the actions he  had done with the first bottle.

Soon, he was pulling out a second bottle.   
  
  
Somewhere around the halfway mark of the second bottle he stopped. The wine and solitude were very nice, but he needed to get back home, Esme was at home, and he wanted to see Esme. She was very pretty, and he loved her. And oh, there was package too.

 

Stashing the half full bottle in the crate, Carlisle laughed at the noise the bottles made when they touched. _Clink, clink._ It was a pretty noise, Carlisle thought, like windchimes...ooh! He should buy windchimes for Esme.

He should go right now and get them, Carlisle decided, shutting the trunk and going around to the driver's side of the car, swaying as he walked. He opened the car door and tumbled into the driver's seat, tucking his legs in after him.

 

His keys were buried in his pocket, and he dug them out, they jingled, and he shook them, giggling when they jingled louder. Taking the car key between his thumb and index finger, Carlisle attempted to slot it into the ignition, but failed, jabbing the key into the side of the steering wheel instead. Carlisle made a second attempt, and failed that one as well.

Swearing in a few old fashioned phrases, Carlisle went in for a third try...and succeeded. 

   
The car started and roared off, swinging over the road as Carlisle worked the steering wheel wildly. He was supposed to be heading back into town, wasn't he? Oh, but look, there was the moon, and it was so... _shiny_. If he followed it, maybe he could catch it. Esme would like the moon better than windchimes.

 Stomping on the accelerator, Carlisle sped off into the night, following the ever inconsistent and retreating orb of the moon.

 

* * *

 

  
Quite a few hours later, Carlisle slunk back down the same road, pouting. He had not been able to catch the moon, the sneaky thing kept running away, and so he was headed into town to buy the windchimes. It was now very late, and Carlisle had the nagging feeling he was forgetting something...the New Years party!  
  
  
He'd miss it if he didn't get home soon. But first, the windchimes needed to be bought. He would have to _hurry, hurry!_

 

* * *

 

Charlie parked his car along the side of the road, scribbling down information into his ticket book. New Years had already come and passed about four hours ago, and Charlie was rounding up the stragglers, and writing out tickets for improperly parked cars, and watching out for drunk drivers. Forks was a small town, and Charlie sometimes felt like an ageing man with a horde of grandchildren.

 

Suddenly, leaping down the road with the speed of a tiger, roaring past Charlie, came Dr. Cullen's silver Porsche. Charlie recognized it instantly, as it was the only one of its kind in Forks.  

 

Charlie started his car and threw on his lights, jumping into the road in pursuit of the Porsche, because it was _speeding_. An easy hundred, Charlie reckoned.

Dr. Cullen must be in a great hurry, since it was so late, Charlie figured that it was an emergency at the hospital that was causing the doctor to put on the gas. But still, Charlie would have to stop him, at least to figure out the exact nature of the emergency, and offer an escort to Dr. Cullen.

* * *

Carlisle saw the flashing lights behind him, and applied the breaks. Charlie, it was Charlie.

Carlisle likes Charlie, Charlie is a good man. Carlisle pulled over to the side of the road and parked. He was going rather fast, he knows, but once he explains everything to Charlie, Charlie will understand.

* * *

Charlie parked behind the Porsche and stepped out of his police car, walking up to the Porsche's front window. The window rolled down, and Charlie looked in, and was greeted by the sight of a shirtless, grinning Carlisle, who incidentally, stunk like a winery.

Charlie pulled out his breath tester. 

 

"Dr. Cullen, please breathe into here." Charlie requested.

 

Carlisle complied, and Charlie looked at the reading as it flashed on the screen, his jaw dropping. 

  
"Dr. Cullen, your blood alcohol content is literally one hundred percent, how are you not dead?" Charlie gasped out.

" _Au contraire_ , I'm absolutely dead." Carlisle grinned, then giggled.

* * *

 

  
  
"Oh, Carlisle!" Esme gasped as she opened the door to reveal her husband and Charlie, who was currently supporting Carlisle.

"He had too much to drink." Charlie explained, transferring Carlisle into Esme's hands. "I found a case of wine in the trunk."

"Oh, that must've been the New Years surprise he kept mentioning." Esme said, wrapping an arm around Carlisle's waist to keep him upright. "Will there be a citation, Officer Swan?"

"Oh, no, no." Charlie assured her. "I know he didn't mean to cause harm, and I don't want to haul in Forks most valued doctor into the station, but please keep him in the house next time he overindulges."

  
Esme flashed him a pretty smile.  
  
  
"Of course, of course." she said.

  
"You know, I've never seen him drunk before." Charlie mused. "Does he have a condition?"

"Condition?." Esme said, shooting a glance at Carlisle, who was nuzzling her hair.

 

"My breath test registered his blood alcohol content to be a astronomical levels." Charlie explained.

  
"No, he doesn't have a condition...your machine must of been malfunctioning." Esme reasoned.   
  
  
Charlie nodded.

  
"That's what I figured. I'll get it fixed at the station, his car is still downtown, you can pick it up later." Charlie turned to leave, then paused. "He kept saying something about windchimes and the moon when I was driving him back." Charlie said.  
  
Esme gave a soft snort of laughter.

 

"He's a goofy drunk." she informed Charlie.  
  
  
"I can tell. Happy New Years." Charlie said, walking off into the twilight, back to his car.

 

* * *

 

"Happy New Years." said Esme, gently closing the door on Charlie's retreating figure.

"Is it New Years?" Carlisle inquired, coming up for metaphorical breath from her hair.

"New Years is over. Has been over for almost five hours." Esme primly informed him. "You missed it and worried everybody. Jasper and Emmet are out still looking for you."  
  
  
"Oh. Well, there's always next year." Carlisle said wisely.

  
"Next year, I'm not letting you get wine." Esme said.  
  
  
Carlisle's lips formed a pout. "Beer then." he compromised, tripping and falling onto one of the expensive couches lining the living room, pulling Esme with him.  
  
Esme settled into the curve of his body, smiling loosely.  
  
  
"You'll regret this in the morning." she informed him.

Carlisle shrugged, pressing a kiss to the side of her head.

  
"Happy New Years." he yawned.  
  
  
  
 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Leave me feedback and I'll buy you wine. Happy New Years!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!


End file.
